Finding Relief
For some mothers, breastfeeding can trigger debilitating anxiety, a condition known as dysphoric milk ejection reflex, or D-MER. Here, Sarah Johnson, a mother of two, shares her experience with Lucy Carter.
A distressing phenomenon affects nearly 10% of breastfeeding mothers: dysphoric milk ejection reflex (D-MER). This condition can lead to intense feelings of despair during the moments surrounding milk letdown. As a mental health professional with over a decade of experience, I was unaware of this disorder until I unexpectedly became part of the 10%.
I vividly remember my first encounter with D-MER. After returning home from the hospital with my 3-day-old daughter, I settled onto the couch to nurse. Having undergone a C-section, my husband assisted me in getting comfortable. As my baby latched on, I felt the familiar tingling sensation signaling my milk letdown, quickly followed by an overwhelming sense of doom.
It was as though I was receiving devastating news. The dread was comparable to learning that a loved one is gravely ill or losing a job. Picture that sinking feeling you get when anticipating terrible news—it’s paralyzing.
Initially, I thought I was just grappling with normal parental anxiety. My husband planned to mow the lawn after helping me, and I feared being alone with my newborn. The feeling seemed so out of place that I kept silent. I struggled to articulate what was happening to me.
For the first several months, I endured this experience in silence. The anxiety would strike 15 to 30 seconds after letdown, lasting from 30 seconds to a minute—an eternity when you’re bracing for the worst. I failed to connect my feelings to breastfeeding. During those early months, nursing was constant, which meant the feelings of dread were constant too.
But here’s the twist: when the sensation wasn’t occurring, I felt perfectly fine. I would attend checkups with my obstetrician, proclaiming, “Everything’s great!” while moments earlier, I had felt like my world was collapsing.
The breakthrough came when I stumbled upon a post in a parenting group on Facebook. Someone described the exact feelings I was experiencing, stating, “Do you ever feel a sense of doom while nursing? You might have D-MER!” I clicked that link without hesitation.
There’s no clear explanation for D-MER, but it’s believed to be linked to a temporary drop in hormones during letdown. Suddenly, I had a name for my struggle and realized I wasn’t alone. Understanding D-MER helped me cope. The knowledge that it was a hormonal reaction alleviated some anxiety, but it didn’t make the feelings vanish.
I tried various remedies—drinking cold water, snacking, staying hydrated, and distracting myself—but none were truly effective. The only thing that seemed to help was focusing on my baby and reminding myself that this feeling was temporary.
I breastfed my daughter for seven months, not primarily due to D-MER, but because she had started biting me and I was exhausted from pumping at work. It felt like the right time to wean her.
Once we stopped nursing, D-MER faded into my past. It was akin to the relief one feels after labor: “That was tough; I wouldn’t want to go through that again.” Time passed, and I didn’t think about D-MER at all.
Then, two years later, I had a son, and as soon as my milk came in at the hospital, D-MER returned—this time even more intense. Alongside the anxiety and dread, I experienced severe nausea. Each letdown made me feel like I might be sick, which compounded the anxiety.
I could have stopped nursing, but my son was so attached. He needed that closeness, and nursing was his comfort. I often thought, “Today’s the day I stop,” but then he would snuggle close, and I would continue. Days turned into weeks, and I kept surpassing my own expectations.
I felt jealousy towards mothers who didn’t suffer from D-MER. It was hard to reconcile my negative experience with breastfeeding while others seemed to enjoy it. However, when not in the throes of a letdown, I would reminisce fondly about nursing, thinking, “Oh, I love this!” only to be brought back to reality during the actual nursing session.
Eventually, my son became a biter like his sister, and I decided to stop nursing. I felt relief with each passing day. Even today, I occasionally experience letdown sensations and think, “Thank goodness I’m done. I couldn’t handle this anymore.”
Reflecting on my struggles with D-MER over a total of 14 months, I recognize it as the toughest challenge I’ve ever faced. Shockingly, I’ve yet to meet an OB who is familiar with D-MER. If I hadn’t come across that Facebook post, I might have remained in the dark.
This prompted me to pursue certification in perinatal mood disorder treatment. I now help mothers identify their struggles, including D-MER. It’s come full circle.
My daughter is now three, and my son is seven months old. I know we’re done having kids—age, finances, and D-MER are significant factors. When I consider it clearly, free from the haze of hormones, I know I can’t endure that again.
For additional insights, visit our other blog post about related experiences here. For authoritative information on this topic, check out this resource on pregnancy. If you’re interested in more information on D-MER, you can find it here.
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- D-MER symptoms
- How to cope with breastfeeding anxiety
- Understanding breastfeeding difficulties
- Support for nursing mothers
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In summary, D-MER can turn the experience of breastfeeding into a profound struggle for some mothers. However, with awareness and support, it is possible to navigate these feelings and find a path that works for both mother and child.